Sonnet XVII
Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill'd with your most high deserts?
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say 'This poet lies:
Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.
So should my papers yellow'd with their age
Be scorn'd like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
These are some pretty cool Pink Floyd pages
Pink Patrol
Pink Floyd
The Bright Side of The Moon
Kevins
Feel free to visit some of my friends pages
Marisa
Jim
Kirk
Pat
Andy S.
Ronnie
Paul
click here to dowload icq its an awsome chating kinda thing i don't know its
really cool so download it and if you want to talk to me my name is pear
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Email: pear24@hotmail.com